


Returning from the abyss

by Floraline



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confused John, Confused Sherlock, Hurt Sherlock, I hate tags, M/M, No more tags now, Post-Reichenbach, Random fic, like seriously who likes tags?, not a lot, quite short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:45:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floraline/pseuds/Floraline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock returns to the flat after the fall. He isn't prepared for what comes next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning from the abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Only a short little thing, and writing as I went.

John sat down in Sherlock's old chair. 

_How dare he do this? After all this time... He thinks he can just walk in and everything will be okay?_

_No. I can't do this. Please, don't make me have to believe he's still alive. I know he's not. I saw him die._

_Wake up. This is just a dream, this isn't real._

_People can't come back from the dead._

"John?"

_Oh God, he is real. How can he be real? But... But I... I saw him die!_

"Sherlock, I swear to God, this can't be happening. I saw you die, for Christ's sake!"

"John, I'm back. Just calm down, please."

Without realizing what he was doing, John got up, and walked over to where Sherlock was standing in the doorway.

_Christ, that hurt! Wait... No, I felt that. I always wake up before I punch him._

_Is this a new type of sick dream?_

Sherlock was cowering away from John, holding his nose.

_Oh bloody hell, this is real. I just broke Sherlock's nose. Crap. ___

"Sherlock? Sherlock, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." 

"...No John, it's fine. I was expecting something worse, if I'm honest." 

"Worse than breaking your nose? What could be worse than hurting you intentionally?" 

"Well... I initially thought you would shoot me, but that theory became irrelevant as Mycroft has taken away your gun." 

"You thought I would shoot you? What the hell, Sherlock!" 

_I can't breathe. How could that prick think I would shoot him if I thought he was real?_

_Did he really think I'd lose him again that easily?_

"I'm going to get an ice pack for your nose, could you put the kettle on? I think it might finally be your turn to make the tea." 

John turned away from Sherlock and made for the freezer. He had no idea why he still had an ice pack; Maybe a part of him still hoped that Sherlock was alive, that he had survived. 

"John, please, look at me." 

John ignored him, got out the ice pack, put it on the counter and went and sat in his own chair. 

_Come on, you idiot! He's finally, actually here and you can't even look at him. Just listen to what he has to say. And don't ever, ever let him leave again._

_What am I thinking? I was just about to die. Why does he always have to ruin things?_

John looked at the pills set out methodically on the table. 

_Just let him explain, and then he'll leave again and you can carry on. He won't stop you._

_He'll leave again, just like you always knew he would._

John cleared the table of the pills, put them into their container, and folded the note he'd written and put it in his pocket. 

Just as he finished, Sherlock walked in with their tea's. John carefully didn't look into his eyes, afraid of what he might find. 

_What do you think you'll find? You know he won't stay after you punched him. You're just as bad as Moriarty. He won't ever trust you again. You betrayed him. You hurt him. He will just leave now, he'll make him excuses and just go. Why do you think he won't?_

_Because he thought I'd shoot him._

Sherlock handed John his mug, but instead of walking away, he put his own mug down and crouched infront of John. 

_What the hell is he doing? Isn't he afraid I'll hurt him again? Doesn't he realize that I can't stop it?_

Sherlock took John's chin, and John froze. 

_Oh God, no, no, no. He knows. He's deduced how I ~~felt~~ feel about him._

_He's going to say that he doesn't love me back, and then leave._

_Oh God, why did Mycroft take my gun?_

"John, I never wanted to leave you." 

"Then why did you?" 

"Because you would have died." 

_How would I have... Oh. Moriarty was with him on the roof._

_But why would that matter? Sherlock wouldn't sacrifice himself for anyone, let alone me._

John finally looked Sherlock in the eye, and was surprised when he found that he did not see hurt, or anger, or resent, but longing. 

_Longing? No, that can't be right. Sherlock doesn't believe in sentiment._

Sherlock continued talking. "Mrs Hudson and Lestrade would have died, but he would have killed you. I won't lose you, John. Not forever. Not because I was being selfish. That would have been stupid, and I am not stupid." 

_What? Why would that be stupid? I'm ordinary, and he doesn't believe in sentiment._

"Sherlock, what're you saying?" 

Sherlock looked away, and muttered something under his breath. 

"What? Sherlock, you know I can't hear you when you speak quietly and fast." 

Sherlock looked back into John's eyes, and without hesitation, said, "I don't believe in sentiment. But you stopped that. Why?" 

Sherlock looked vulnerable, and John hated that. 

"Sherlock, are you saying what I think you're saying?" 

"John, I know what I put you through. I was only trying to protect you. If I had known you'd try and... Well, you know, then I would have told you straight away." 

"Told me what, Sherlock?" 

"Surely I am not being coy? Do I have to say it?" 

"I think so, yes. You need to tell me now, Sherlock. You owe me that." 

Sherlock leaned forwards, still holding John's chin; That move already forgotten. 

"John, I think I am in love with you." 

_If he is doing this just to hurt me, then I will kill him._

"John? I understand that you don't love me back, I do not expect anything less. I just need you to know what you can already see. I don't want to lose you, so I won't make anything more of it, as you don't feel the same way. But I want us to be friends. I can't live without seeing you again." 

"Sherlock...." 

Sherlock backed away from John. 

_See, he was just saying it. If he meant what he had said, he wouldn't be leaving you._

_But he said that I don't feel the same way._

"No, it's fine. I overstepped a line. Forget it." 

"No, I'm not going to 'forget it'. How could you claim to be such a genius when you can't see what's right infront of you?" 

Sherlock stopped moving away, and his usual face of nonchalance turning into confusion. 

"How could you not deduce it? I thought it was obvious from the moment I met you. That you were only saving face not telling me that you don't feel the same. But you really don't know, do you?" 

"Know what?" 

Sherlock stood in the middle of the room. 

_Just go for it, you idiot! He's leaving anyway, it's not like it will affect that! He doesn't love you, but you can finally do it and then rest in peace knowing that fact!_

_But what if he does love me? Fine, I'll do it, if not only to see if he's lying to me again._

John rose from his chair, setting down his already cold mug of tea. 

_Do it! Do it now! Before it's too late!_

So John walked over. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so yeah. Cool. Hope you liked it!!  
> Only small, I know, but I tried.  
> There wasn't like a set plan or anything, just how I felt it should go on as it progressed.  
> Comments/Criticisms welcome and appreciated.  
> Okay, so um, good.
> 
> Ciao!!


End file.
